


madness

by chrkrose



Series: constant. [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Not JC Friendly, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21641344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrkrose/pseuds/chrkrose
Summary: Here he is. Watching her.He’s going mad.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: constant. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555945
Comments: 19
Kudos: 233





	madness

**Author's Note:**

> Written on my phone so all mistakes are mine. Not plot heavy, just an excuse to write a little bit of not so smutty smut.
> 
> Warning: Jaime and Cersei still have a few encounters on this fic, but as I put on the tag, this fic is not jc friendly and I am a j/b shipper so... be aware.

Madness.

He’s mad. 

That’s the only explanation for the surge of pure want he feels burning in his veins like green wildfire while he watches her from afar, hears her grunts, watches the sweat on her skin.

He’s mad. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


When he kissed her, late at night on a inn somewhere between Harrenhal and King’s Landing, he told himself it was the need to comfort her that drove him to do it.

She was already emotionally exhausted by the bear pit and whatever they’ve done to her while he was away (and he caught himself too often thinking about those hours he spent on the road, leaving her behind to the likes of Vargo Hoat), so to see her biting her lips hard to stop the roll of her tears after hearing about Catelyn Stark’s death, he couldn’t help himself.

Couldn’t help the instinct of wanting to comfort her, for that was the reason why he saw himself drawing her head to his shoulder and letting her weep the tears for the woman she was sworn to. 

He wasn’t sure how it happened, wasn’t sure who moved first, but then her blue, blue, _blue_ eyes were staring at him from wet eyelashes, so pale against the dim light from the room, and Jaime remembered how young and innocent and _good_ she was and then-

Her lips were warm. Soft beneath his own. 

It lasted for a second or maybe a minute, he didn’t know, but he realized soon enough what he was doing and stood up, _forgive me my lady_ coming out from his mouth, and left her to rest alone in her room.

(He made sure he listened to her barring the door before he left the hallway to his own room, something inside his chest unlocking at the knowledge she was safe, tucked away from the eyes of the men who traveled with them).

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


After that most of their journey was passed in silence. At least from the wench’s part. 

He tried to talk to her. To taunt her. To get any kind of reaction but it seemed useless.

It’s not like he did care anyway. He wanted to get back to King’s Landing, to get back to his sweet sister and her arms. 

That’s what he wanted. That’s what he needed. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


So back he was, back to Loras Tyrell threatening the wench, giving Jaime no choice but to tuck her away again, somewhere safe until he could sort this out.

Back he was to Jeoffrey’s dead body and his sweet sister, golden and beautiful and mourning their king.

He fucked her right there, next to their dead son. All the while with his twin, his other half, whispering that he was home, that he was back to the place he belonged.

Because that’s where he belonged, wasn’t it? By Cersei’s side. He was whole now that he had her back in his arms, missing hand be damned. 

He was whole now. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Why he couldn’t sleep at night thinking about the wench’s lips and her sigh against his lips was simply because-

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He had been too long without Cersei. A quick fuck next to a corpse wasn’t going to fix that, so he knocked at the door of her bedchambers and they fucked on her bed and when she told him there was no one like them, that nobody could compare, he agreed. 

He left her chambers soon after they were done, as he always did.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He was back home. Where he belonged. That’s all he needed wasn’t it? That’s all he needed. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Cersei wanted, more than anything, for Tyrion to be found guilty but it was easy enough to find the evidence condemning Petyr Baelish for Jeoffrey's murder and there was nothing his sweet sister could do about it. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It was easy to convince Loras Tyrell that Brienne was nothing but honorable to a fault, stubborn pig headed who would get herself killed sooner than later for it and that she would never murder the man she considered her king. 

_The man she loved_ , he thought to himself. 

So the wench was free to roam around the red keep as his honored guest, free to spar and to grunt and sweat under the sun while holding a tourney sword.

  
  


But now here he is, watching her.

Mad.

Maybe he should lock her away again, from prying eyes of men who had such dishonorable thoughts about a maid of nine and ten. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Does she love him still?_ He wonders at night, and then tries to think of Cersei and her body against his and the smell of her perfume. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_“You swore an oath ser. We both did”._

_“There’s no safest place than here at the red keep, married to a Lannister.”_

_“You cannot look at me in the eye and tell me you believe in what you’re saying Ser! You cannot!”_

_“Must you announce to the whole court my lady? We’ll think of something wench. I promise. Now be patient. And stop being a pain in my arse while doing so.”_

She drops her head, mutters some excuse about leaving him to his duty and walks away from him. She looks wounded at his words and _gods why is her heart so soft._

He dislikes a great deal, to cause that look.

_A maiden’s heart. She’s all strength and muscle but beneath that, she’s as soft as any maiden has a right to be._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He dreams about her lips and the strength of her body and the sighs she would make if she yielded to him. He wakes up with his cock hard and wanting, _wanting,_ and he tries to think of his sweet sister cunt but in the end it’s Brienne and her muscles and her softness that bring him to completion.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He’s going mad.

  
  
  
  
  


Cersei shows up in his chambers at the White Sword Tower. “ _You’re all I have. I want you”_ she says, but he denies her. 

_“Not here.”_ She doesn’t understand, tries to make it happen, but he tells her no. “ _Not here, I said. This is not the place.”_

_“You took me at the sept. This is no different”._ But it was. It was different. Cersei doesn’t understand.

_Brienne would._ He can’t help but think. 

When he denies his sweet sister once more, she leaves his chambers, anger shining in her eyes. 

  
  
  
  


He’s going mad.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He sees himself outside Brienne’s chambers instead.

He knocks twice before she opens, eyes heavy with sleep, hair messy from laying down against the pillows and _would she look like that beneath me? On top of me?_

_“Jaime…?”_ she whispers, a question. For a moment forgetting about formality. Just his name, on her lips.

He passes by, enters her bedchambers, and gods he hopes there’s no spies around to see him doing this at this hour.

_“Is anything amiss?”_ She asks, more alert now. 

_“Do you still love him?”_

She startles, furrowing her brow. 

_“Who?”_ And he swallows that simple question as the answer that he needs.

_“Forget it. We must talk about what happened on the way to King’s Landing my lady”._

_“What happened…”_

_“At the inn”_

_“The inn..”_

_“Are you going to repeat everything I say like a parrot wench?”_

Brienne’s eyes are huge, two big pools of blue shining under the moonlight. 

_“I do not understand Ser Jaime”._ And there it is. _Ser._ Two steps forward, three steps backwards, that’s how it is with his wench.

_“We kissed”_ he puts her out of her misery but instead causes her cheek to grow warm, redness spreading down her neck and into her tunic.

_“I… we… I-I apologize Ser, I was not myself and-“_

_“So you’re saying you initiated then?”_

_“I-I… I do not remember but-“_

_“I do not remember who started either”_ and then he steps into her space, eyeing her face, searching for… _for what?_ _“Does it matter Brienne? Who initiated it? Does it matter if it was me or you? We kissed”_

_“You stopped it. Left me alone”_ she blurts out, and there it is, the hurt, and she reddens all over again, drop her eyes to the floor but he’s not having it. He touched her face, brings it up to stare at him, smiles because he sees it now.

_“I’m back. I’m right here my lady”_ he says. And then wraps his arms around her, his stump digging on the small of her back, his hand tangling in her hair and finally, _finally,_ he kisses her. 

She gasps, tenses against his arms for a second, maybe two, but then she melts.

Sighs against his mouth.

And he knows there’s no coming back from this. From this madness.

He pushes her against the door, presses his mouth more firmly against hers. Then he gentles, swipes his tongue against her bottom lip, drags it into his mouth. It takes a moment for Brienne to understand what he wants, but when she does, when she opens to him, when he touches her tongue with his and she lets out a little sound as if she’s at the same time surprised and pleased by that… _gods wench_ he wants to tell her. _Gods I can’t._

He pulls her closer to his body, pushes her against the door at the same time until there’s not a part of them that is not touching, and kisses her, and kisses her, sucks on her tongue, tangles his tongue with her own, sucks on her lips and kisses them until he doesn’t remember anything else but the taste of her in his mouth and the little sounds she makes.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


At first that’s all he does. Steals a kiss while passing by her on his way to do something that requests his presence, pulling her into an alcove on the red keep and only leaving when her lips are red and plump. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Lets her push him against the wall while they spar and when he knows nobody is looking, that they are all alone, he leans towards her and licks her bottom lip, quickly, like a cat. That startles her, driving her back until he gains the advantage that he wanted. 

(She beats him in the end anyway).

  
  
  


Goes to her bedchambers every night, careful to not being seen, and kisses her until they are breathing heavy against each other’s mouth. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


She lets him stay until the first light, and when he comes back to his own chambers, all he wants is her warmth around his body.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


And then just kissing her is not enough. 

Not when she lets him lay her down on the bed and on top of her until their bodies move on their own accord, and he’s grinding against her, hard, panting against the skin of her neck while she moans quietly in his ear.

That spurs him on, and when he grabs one of her legs and hooks it around his hips, the shift in angle have them both gasping. She wraps her other leg around him, on instinct alone, and then he can’t stop.

Thrusts against the center of her, and he knows he’s hitting the right spot because Brienne can’t stop the noises from escaping her. 

He drags his hand across her tunic, lifting it up until one of her small breasts are exposed to him. All the way he keeps looking at her face, and while he can see her cheeks getting even more red, she doesn’t stop him. 

He lowers his head, licks the underside of her breast. Kisses it. Slowly licks a path until he has her nipple between his lips, drawing it into his mouth. 

The noise she makes almost makes him come inside his breaches. She moves her hips against him faster, hands tangling in his hair. 

_“Jaime..”_ she whimpers, half a question and half a command, and he’s so lost in the feel of her, in the warmth and the strength of her legs wrapped around him, that he wants more. Wants to give her more.

He opens his mouth a little wider, almost the whole mound of her breast fitting perfectly inside his mouth, and sucks harder. Grinds against her harder, and Brienne throws her head back, moaning loud, louder than she should, but right now he doesn’t care. 

_“Jaime… j-Jaime what… I-”_ she chants, and then she can’t say words anymore, her cries going louder and louder in the space of her chambers. He releases her breast, the loud wet noise it makes making him impossibly harder, and kisses her with everything he has, swallowing her cries of pleasure. Rocking his hips with hers on a dance he should have know so well, but that right now feels all new when is her body and her strength and her softness beneath him. 

He can feel when she comes, her whole body going taunt, her legs tightening around him, and he only wanted to make it better for her, pressing her against the mattress so she feels all of him against her body, but when she moans his name, when he feels the vibrations of his name on her tongue and his, he cannot control himself anymore. Presses against her hard, spilling himself inside his breeches, and it goes for so long, longer than any other time he can remember.

  
  
  
  
  


Cersei asks for his presence in her bedchambers and he goes.

_“Father wants to wed me again. I’m no longer part of the council. He wants to take Tommen away from me. You need to help me! Talk to him Jaime! Please”_ She cries, hugs him. 

_“Father won’t listen to me. My word weights nothing to him”._

_“He will if you leave the Kingsguard. I know he will. You can convince him then”_

When she tries to kiss him, the memory of Brienne’s lips and her body makes him step away.

Cersei stares at him in confusion, shock and then, disgust.

_“Was it your hand they hacked off in Harrenhal, or your manhood?”_

He leaves her with her goblet of wine.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


If his father is surprised by his request of seeing him, he doesn’t show it. 

Jaime waits until his father looks up from his papers. 

_“What is this about?”_

He smiles, slowly. 

_“I’ll leave the Kingsguard”_

The glint of a shocked expression flashes by his father’s face before the mask sets back in.

_“I imagine this does not come without a price”_ he sets the pearchments aside, folds his hands on top of his desk. _“What is it that you want?”_

_“I want Casterly Rock”._

_“It’s yours. Anything else?”_

_“I’ll choose my bride. No interference from you or anyone else”._

_“Agreed. But you’ll have to choose within the year, otherwise I’ll-“_

_“I already have someone in mind”._ He thinks about Brienne’s wide eyes, the blush on her cheeks when he asked. The scowl when she thought it was a ill timed jape. Her crooked teeth when she smiled. _“In fact, she already accepted it. You must write to her father. She’s higborn, it won’t do well to not let him know”._

_“What if he doesn’t agree?”_

_“She’ll marry me anyway”_

_“Very well, it shall be done. Give me her name and I’ll write to her father”._

_“There’s something else”_

_“Of course there is”._

_“Tyrion is coming with me to the rock. And so is his wife”_ the wench was almost as happy with that as she was to be marrying him. He pretended to be wounded by her eagerness in having Sansa’s Stark with them until she grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him.

His father stares at him for a long time, longer than Jaime is comfortable with. For a moment he wonders if he’ll deny it. He can feel the weight ready to settle on his shoulders.

But then, finally, he nods.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_“Jaime”_ Cersei says, already in his new bedchambers, no longer at the White Sword Tower _“word of mouth tells me you’ll be released from the Kingsguard on the morrow”_

His sweet sister walks to him. 

_“Is it true? Did you ask to be released? Have you convinced him about Tommen?”_ When he doesn’t say anything, she hugs him. _“You’re my knight in shining armor. I knew you wouldn’t abandon me when I needed you the most”._

Jaime disentangles himself from her. 

_“I am leaving the Kingsguard. This has nothing to do with Tommen though. I haven’t said a word about him to father”._

_“Then why… what are you doing? You’ve lost the chance to convince him!”_ Her voice grows louder. “ _Why are you doing this to me! We are each other’s half! You can’t leave me by myself. He’ll wed me to someone else Jaime, and take our son away from me! You know he’ll do it!”_

Jaime stays silent.

“ _We belong to each other-”_ she starts, but then takes a step back. As if seeing him for the first time _. “What happened to you out there? I feel like you never came back to me. I don’t know who you are anymore. You’re mad!”_

He thinks about Brienne’s legs wrapped around him, the blue dress he commissioned for her bunched around her hips, his fingers deep inside of her while she whispered his name against his ear.

Thinks about the way she looked at him while he gave her Oathkeeper. _A wedding gift wench. It would please me if you called it that._

  
  


_“Perhaps I am sister. Perhaps I’m mad”._

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Still on the train that Jaime and Brienne kissing before arriving in KL would change everything. Butterfly effect and all of that. They are that powerful.


End file.
